


Sleepless in Manhattan

by andshefelldown (theskittlesparty)



Category: Friends (TV)
Genre: Beginnings, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, M/M, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:27:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22317820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theskittlesparty/pseuds/andshefelldown
Summary: I day dream a lot and I just had to write this down - thought I’d share?
Relationships: Chandler Bing/Joey Tribbiani
Comments: 17
Kudos: 209





	Sleepless in Manhattan

Chandler doesn’t sleep the entire time while Joey is living in another apartment.

When Joey finally returns to him, Chandler still can’t sleep and it’s somehow worse. He knows now, has finally understood and confronted his feelings. He’s never been in love before but, still, he knows. He’s terrified, because of his father, but he also feels so safe around Joey that it’s almost okay.  
Almost.  
Joey is still Joey, womaniser to the extreme; Chandler has to settle for roommates. And it’s almost okay.  
Almost.

Chandler is feeling raw.  
He’s too emotional to bother pretending to sleep and drags his aching body to the living room. Through his exhaustion he forgets whose BarcaLounger is whose, and the leather smells of Joey. It’s so familiar and warm and startling and Chandler’s sobbing in seconds.  
When Joey stumbles to the kitchen for a glass of milk sometime later, he stops dead and watches Chandler for one, small moment. And then his arms are beneath Chandler’s armpits and he’s lifting him with an ease that should embarrass Chandler, except that it just feels nice.  
They make it to Chandler’s bedroom and Joey helps him underneath the covers. Chandler rolls away from him, trying to hide.  
Rather than leaving him be, Joey does something unexpected, climbing into the covers right behind Chandler, wrapping an arm around him and laying his big, hot hand over Chandler’s heart. Joey’s knees press into the back of Chandler’s and suddenly he’s warm all over, like he’s never felt before. As if the sun is beaming at him from behind.  
He’s asleep within minutes, Joey’s cool nose pressed gently against the back of his neck.  
The next morning finds Chandler facing Joey, still wrapped in his arms, their foreheads pressed together. He breathes for a long moment before gently extricating himself from the situation.  
Neither speaks of it again but Joey’s voice is a little softer for a few days.

The darkness closes in, as always, to match the tightness in his chest. Once again, Chandler heaves his body to Joey’s BarcaLounger in the nightly ritual that has become his habit. He sometimes thinks of it during the day, when it’s hard to keep his eyes open, and it almost feels okay.  
Almost.  
Joey must be thirsty again, because he trips to the kitchen and is halfway done filling up a glass with water before he notices the company. He sighs, but it feels gentle rather than annoyed. His big feet lope over to Chandler and, once again, he is being pulled to his feet. This time, they move towards Joey’s room.  
Inside, they assume the same position wordlessly, as if it’s a standard part of their friendship.  
Again, Chandler is asleep within minutes.  
Again, he silently pulls himself from Joey’s embrace the next morning.  
Again, they don’t talk about it.

That is, until three nights later when Joey catches him in the living room again at an ungodly hour.

“Chandler, if you can’t sleep just climb into my bed. You seem to have no problem when I’m around.”

“Joe, that’s insane. I can’t treat you like a teddybear!”

“Of course you can, who says otherwise?”

“People! All of the people.”

“Just come to bed.”

“Can you come to mine, instead?” His voice is so small Joey almost doesn’t hear.

“Anytime.”

Chandler breathes deeper the moment Joey’s hand falls against his heart.  
The tears come quickly, and leave just as fast. He lets them melt into his ears and closes his eyes, falls asleep to the beat of Joey’s heart at his back.

This becomes their new normal.  
They take it in turns whose bed they sleep in, and they don’t talk about it. Not in any significant way, at least. Only to manage the logistics, as needed. They don’t need to know why they need to do this. As long as it works it’s almost okay.  
Almost.

Joey hasn’t had a girl over in months.  
Chandler doesn’t know what to think of it, tries not to think at all. He’s tried his very best not to notice anything, yet it’s all his thoughts can focus on; the guilt. Because he’s happy, and that’s selfish.  
He always tries so hard not to notice or think or feel, and it only makes him feel and think and notice more.  
He has to put a stop to this. For Joey. And maybe for himself.  
Before it’s too late.  
He doesn’t quite know what the ‘it’ is, but he’s adamant it can’t be allowed to happen. So he stops going to Joey’s bedroom. Starts to lock his own. The old normality returns.  
And things are almost okay.  
Almost.

Joey looks sad nowadays. He doesn’t speak much, the girls don’t return, and he seems to be trying not to get in Chandler’s way.  
Like he could ever be in Chandler’s way.  
The others notice, and try to make Joey happy again. Chandler feels guilty once more, and it makes him a little angry. This was all for Joey’s benefit: the sleepless nights, the empty bed, the misery. The ungrateful git should be pleased to have the extra space back.  
Chandler just wants to cry all the time, and it looks like Joey does, too.

As Chandler is taking his nightly, solemn march to Joey’s BarcaLounger a shadow makes him jump almost clean out of his skin. The other BarcaLounger, his BarcaLounger, is not empty. And the occupant is sobbing desperately.  
In a fit of deja vu reversed, Chandler pulls Joey’s limp body up and into his arms. They stagger slowly to Joey’s bedroom, and Chandler helps him climb under the covers. A moment of hesitation, and then Chandler climbs in behind him, curls his knees against Joey’s, wraps his hand around Joey’s heart.  
He breathes deeply into Joey’s neck and falls asleep within seconds, Joey a deadweight of contentment in his arms.

The new normal returns.  
They’re both okay.  
Almost.

Many months go by, and Chandler can almost breathe on his own during the day.  
At night, it’s another story. One he carefully ignores. There’s no need to worry when Joey’s right there, beside him. He’ll always be there; that’s the truth and Chandler’s sticking to it.  
He feels like maybe they should talk.  
He’s taking advantage of Joey, and yet he feels like maybe Joey needs this just as much as he does. Not for the same reasons, he guesses, but does that matter?  
They should talk.  
They will talk.  
Chandler will make the words come out and then they can move on with their lives and everything will be the same as before and nothing will change and Joey won’t hate him.  
He’ll be okay.  
Maybe.

“I have some words for you, Joe. Words that you may not want to hear. But I have to say them, okay? We can’t keep this up while you don’t know. It’s not fair and I’m not a good person. But I’m trying, okay? I’m really trying here, I want you to know that.  
And maybe one day the trying will work. I think it might. I mean, it has to, right?  
We have to be okay. We have to.”

“Chan, just spit it out already! You’re making me nervous.”

“Sure, sure, I’ll do that.  
And then you’ll hate me and I’ll have to move out and look for new friends and instead I’ll end up all alone and I’ll never sleep again but, sure, I’ll just spit it out!”

“Chan...”

“I...  
I’m in...  
I want...  
I wish you could feel...  
...the words aren’t there, Joe! I can’t do it!  
...I’m moving out.”

“Wait, what? Why?  
Just say it! Do you want me to cry, because I’m going to start crying here!”

“Joe, please don’t cry. I can’t say it while you’re crying.  
Please don’t make me say it.  
I love being your friend too much.  
I’ll miss you too much.  
I love you too much...”

“...”

“No, that’s not the word. That’s not the word! I take it back! I take them all back, all of the words! Nyargh!” Chandler’s arms are flailing so much he almost unbalances himself. He starts pacing and mumbling incoherently, tears streaming down his face and thoughts numbing his legs.  
This is it: the end.  
Why can’t he be normal?  
Why can’t he sleep?  
Why can’t he be in love with someone who isn’t his best friend?  
Joey lunges for his hands before he can knock himself out, secures them both in his own and then tilts his head until he’s looking up into Chandler’s eyes.  
Chandler closes them tightly, the fat teardrops gluing his lashes to his cheekbones. His lower lip is quivering, an echo of the full body tremors wracking through him.  
Joey wraps his arms around him, tight and warm and so comfortable it tugs painfully at his heart.

“Please don’t leave me,” Chandler whispers into the side of his throat. 

“Never.  
I promise.  
I love you, too, doofus.”

Chandler’s knees buckle and Joey supports him as they sink to the carpet. Their limbs wrap around each other and their lips meet tentatively.  
A smile breaks out between them.  
And a whimper. 

They’ll be okay.  
Definitely.


End file.
